


Repose

by dango96



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Strap-Ons, Trans Hubert von Vestra, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-25 14:28:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22497613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dango96/pseuds/dango96
Summary: Byleth makes Hubert take a break — and takes the opportunity to pamper him, while she's at it.Reallypamper him.
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 4
Kudos: 118





	Repose

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel that takes place some time after my other piece, [Surprises](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21405538), but it's not a required read since they're both PWP.
> 
> Hubert is a trans man, and there is penetrative sex involved, though I try to keep the language mostly gender neutral.

“Is this enough?” Byleth coos softly. “Do you want more?”

Hubert doesn’t remember how he got here. One moment he was at his desk, working on documents for Her Majesty — the next, he found himself being undressed on his bed, Byleth’s mouth hungrily claiming his own. Not so long ago, he would have never let himself compromise his duties, not for anyone.

But not unlike a siren, she has the uncanny ability to lure him away from his work, again and again.

Now he’s naked, kneeling on the mattress, thighs trembling as two fingers stuff his tight entrance. He can feel Byleth behind him, her unoccupied hand playing with his chest, her face tucked sensually into the crook of his neck.

And it’s — no, it’s not enough. Not nearly. He’s aching, wet, and his clit hasn’t even been touched. He needs more than this, even as he grinds down onto those fingers, chases the feeling of them pressing flush to the spot that makes him squirm.

“More,” Hubert pants, and groans as a third digit works inside, stretching him wide. He rocks forward as she experimentally fingerfucks him, meeting each thrust with his hips.

“You needed this, didn’t you?” Byleth murmurs, angling her thumb to tease at the skin near to his clit, and — goddess, he could nearly come just from that. “I keep telling you, you need to take breaks…”

He would bark a retort, but his thoughts are far too scrambled for it. Instead, his mouth hangs open, panting softly as she manipulates his body to her liking.

Her fingers are crooked inward, and being stuffed this full means every stutter of his hips has them press into him _just_ right. It’s not long until he’s debasing himself, eyes screwed shut as hungry little whimpers and moans escape him in the shape of her name.

“You’re so close,” Byleth whispers sensually. “Come for me, Hubert.”

Something like a whine escapes his throat, because he _is_ close, teetering right next to that precipice; but his aching clit remains untouched, throbbing. Suddenly, he realizes that she must be doing it on _purpose_ , trying to get him to come without it.

His arms hang useless at his sides. It would be so easy to do it himself. But even in his lust–clouded haze, he feels the desire to obey, to please, to serve.

“Please,” Hubert babbles. She must know what he’s asking for. If she’d just touch him, then—

Her unoccupied hand squeezes his chest roughly, grabbing an erect nipple between her thumb and forefinger to pinch it. At the same time, the lips that had been pressing so delicately to his neck suddenly part to reveal teeth — and they _bite_.

His back arches, stiffens, breath catching in his throat. The sudden jolt of pain is as much a surprise as his body finally, finally cresting the edge, spasming and clenching tight around her fingers. Heat floods his body and his mind until he finds he can’t think about anything at all but how tight he feels, how full he feels, her fingers still grinding into him to milk every last drop of pleasure.

Broken moans rip themselves from him unbidden, and by the time he finally comes down, he’s shaking all over. It’s all he can do to not slump on the bed as her fingers wrench out of him, aching and spent.

“There,” Byleth soothes, easing him backward until he’s laying flat with his head on the pillows, looking at him adoringly. “Don’t you feel better?”

An incoherent noise is all she receives in reply. She leans in, tenderly kissing the bite mark on his throat. It will surely bruise, and Hubert finds himself grateful that his clothes are high–collared.

Her kisses continue for minutes, spreading from his neck to his collarbone, then spanning over his tender chest and trembling abdomen. The combination of cool night air and warm lips does wonders to soothe him, and it’s not long until he’s breathing evenly, bathing in the afterglow.

But then her kisses start to dip lower, over the trail of small hairs leading down to his groin, across his inner thighs, onto his outer folds. He feels her grabbing his legs, gently manipulating them up onto her shoulders, and opens his eyes suspiciously.

“I think I forgot something when I was pleasuring you a minute ago,” Byleth muses, looking up at him cheekily from between his thighs. “Do you mind if I look for it?”

“Byleth,” he whines, half a complaint.

“I won’t take long,” she continues, using her fingers to spread his folds, revealing the neglected, flushed protrusion. “There it is.”

“Byleth—” Hubert starts, but his voice melts into a gasp as her tongue slides over the still–sensitive bead in just the way he likes. He couldn’t argue if he tried.

And it only takes a few minutes before he’s crying out his pleasure again, hitting his second climax, grinding desperately into the torturous ridges of her tongue.

Now he’s _really_ exhausted, laying spent and covered in sweat, knees still drawn up. His entire crotch is throbbing with heat as Byleth gets up from the bed, planting a delicate kiss on his forehead.

He’s probably — no, definitely not going to get any work done tonight, at this rate. He’s too tired, too sore. He would curse her for it, were he not so desperately in love with her.

A few more minutes pass in silence. He doesn’t think to question what she’s doing as he hears the occasional shifting of fabric, focusing only on the thrum of his heartbeat as it gradually slows to a more reasonable pace.

“Roll over,” she finally says, voice deceptively gentle.

Hubert opens his eyes, and then pales.

Byleth is now naked from the waist down, a familiar harness around her thighs — and a protrusion erupting from the center of it that he recognizes as his favorite cock to be fucked with, slender and long with ridges along its upward curve. She has it upside–down, he notes, the better to fuck him from behind.

“B—Byleth,” he starts to object, even as arousal once again floods his well–used groin and he finds himself rolling over obediently, holding his ass up in the air.

She slowly opens up his flushed, wet entrance with deliciously thick ridges until he’s shaking, feeling how it fits almost _perfectly_ inside, leaving him feeling blissfully full. And then — ever so mercifully — she slides her fingers into place between his folds, nestling up against his clit.

The third orgasm comes even quicker than the second, and by the time she roughly fucks him into his fourth, his face is wet with tears of overstimulation, chanting her name like a desperate prayer.

The fifth comes suddenly and unexpectedly, while she’s still fucking him through the aftershocks of the last one, and he can’t help but _whine_ at how his belly clenches so hard it aches, at his twitching, overfucked body squeezing relentlessly on the hard cock stuffing him so full. It’s too much, he’s never come this many times before, isn’t sure how it’s even _possible_.

“Enough,” Hubert chokes out, and is slightly horrified to feel disappointment when she leaves him empty, his body clenching at the absence. Some part of him, despite it all, wants _more_ , but his skin is burning and his thighs are aching and he is _tired_.

Byleth helps him onto his back once more, and he can’t help feeling a little guilty at the worry in her expression, how she kisses the dried tear tracks on his cheeks. “Did I hurt you? Should I have stopped sooner?”

“No,” he reassures her, and it’s the truth — he did enjoy himself. But his body is demanding that he rest, dizzy from heat and hormones. “It was good. But what— what in the world has gotten into you, Byleth?”

Hubert reaches a sudden realization as he says it — she hadn’t even come once, as far as he could tell. She’d been focusing entirely on him, on his pleasure.

He watches as she removes the harness from her middle, then starts to put her smallclothes and shorts back on, suddenly looking all too casual. He furrows his brow in confusion.

“Do you remember what tomorrow is?” Byleth asks calmly, grabbing her handkerchief, helping wipe him clean. He squirms with residual sensitivity, but allows it.

“It’s the seventeenth,” Hubert replies bluntly, looking even more baffled when she draws the blankets up over him — and tucks him in, as if he were a child.

“And?”

“It’s the _seventeenth_ ,” Hubert repeats, mild irritation in his voice, “of the Great Tree Moon—”

Oh.

_Oh._

“I already talked to Edelgard. You have the day off tomorrow.” Byleth calmly snuffs out the last candle in his room, going to the door. “Happy birthday, Hubert. Get some sleep.”

He stares at her dumbly as she leaves, smiling at him serenely as if nothing particularly remarkable had happened. The door clicks behind her and he hears her lock it, leaving him lying in the darkness.

Hubert, to her credit, has the best night of sleep he’s ever had in his life.


End file.
